


Foul Play.

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Men in shorts, Violence, shower!sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 13:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Game of two halves...





	1. Chapter 1

Bugger, who's idea was this?

Sam's not entirely sure why he agreed to participate in a game of rugby against Litton's squad, but it's too late now and if he legs it off the field, Gene'll gut him.

It's not even a proper game for gods sake. You're supposed to have fifteen players to a team. All they've got are seven blokes stood either side of the line, sweaty and red faced, and that's before the match's even started.

Gene and Litton are practically spitting teeth already and Sam's worried for the ref's health. Not only does the man look like a good strong wind'd take him off his feet but he's got his red and yellow cards tucked in his waist band. Poor misguided fool.

Sam feels slightly out of his league, even with the green head gear and huge mouth guard. He's at least 20 pounds lighter than every other man on the field and perhaps it's not just the ref's health he should be thinking about.

He's not the only one wearing ridiculous amounts of padding. Chris's got himself a proper rugby helmet and Ray's done nothing but rip the piss for the last half hour.

Oh god, Ray. If ever there was a bloke you didn't wanna put in a line up for one of the most violent sports ever invented...

He's been plotting and planning with the Guv since the game was announced.

Sam's pretty damn certain that a fair few of the opposing team are gonna end up hospitalised but there's nothing he can do about it, just try and stay out the way.

Every time Sam looks to his left, he can see Ray hooking a ciggie out the packet he's got stuffed down his left sock. He must have the lighter shoved in the right 'cos he hasn't got any pockets but Sam keeps hearing the 'clickclick' of the flint.

The amount he smokes, it's a surprise Ray even made it onto the bloody field.

Gene's no better, he's actually got one hanging out his gob. It's stuck to his bottom lip and the cherry looks like it's gonna fall off every time he hisses at Litton.

They're a pair of Neanderthals. Admittedly, Gene's looking bloody fine in his shorts and vest but Sam and Chris are gonna end up patching cuts and bruises for a week.

The ref bravely muscles his way in between the two snarling DCI's and blows his whistle.

Every one stands to attention and waits for him to toss a coin. He flips the penny and Gene yells 'heads' then each person leans in to see how it's landed. It's tails and Gene lets loose a string of expletives so venomous that Sam hears Annie gasp from the sidelines.

The minute the ball's out the ref's hands and on the floor, Litton smirks at Gene and boots it as far as he can.

It sails neatly over Chris's head and almost takes out Jefferson who's munching on a thumb nail and smoking a fag.

Gene growls, spins and legs it towards the ball before any of Litton's team can move.

Slightly stunned, Sam stands and watches thirteen men all pile on top of each other and start kicking and punching whoever they can reach.

This's gonna be the longest eighty minutes of his life.

Sam hears a muffled shout from somewhere near the bottom of the pile and sees Keat's face screw up. He reals back and Sam can see someone's got their fingers curled round his bollocks and even if he is the 'enemy', Sam feels for him.

The ref comes running, blowing his whistle and waving his arms around, "Break. Break! You just broke about six rules of play!"

Gene rises from the pile of bodies like a phoenix from the ashes and levels a look on him that'd have a lesser man in tears. He simply tilts his head and flicks an eyebrow at Gene. Silly brave man.

Shaking himself, Sam takes his position behind Chris and waits for play to continue. After a brief tussle, Gene relinquishes his hold on the ball and grudgingly hands it to the referee.

The referee might be small and a little weedy but he learns fast and simply throws the ball in amongst the guys all sneering at each other then backs away, quickly.

Sam joins his team in the fight for the ball and has his guard knocked straight out his mouth. Bending to retrieve it, he feels someone barrel into his side and falls face first into a large muddy patch. Pushing against the grass, he fumbles for a foothold and hears Gene roar above him.

Not daring to look, Sam feels who he can only assume is Gene, vaulting over his back and head butting the poor unfortunate sod that floored him.

"Fuckin' cheatin' git"

Sam manages to stand up just in time to see Gene twist his arm round Jenkin's neck. Rushing forward, Sam pries Gene's arm away and pulls him back, "Guv!"

"What, twat almost broke ya nose!"

Sam shakes his head, steps back and rubs his aching jaw before taking off after Ray who's managed to palm the ball and is pelting hell for leather towards Litton's goal line.

Chris watches Ray go and admires his arse in his already soaked shorts. So intent on eyeing up his partners backside, he doesn't see Smithson sneaking round the back of him until it's too late.

Ray's almost there, first points, when he hears Chris's anguished cry and skids to a halt, almost falling on his bum. Turning, Ray can see Chris desperately trying to pull his shorts back up before the rest of them see his pants.

"Bastard!"

Completely forgetting the ball, Ray legs it back towards his other half. Smithson doesn't stand a chance, not when he's laughing so hard he's having to wipe away the tears.

Still clutching his sides, Smithson ends up on his back with Ray's knee in his gut.

Chris manages to sort his shorts out and piles in on top of Ray who's got a fist full of the other copper's hair and is slamming his head into the ground, "Ray, leave it!"

"No, bastard's gonna..."

The ref blows his whistle, gingerly picks his way through the squabbling men and lays a hand on Ray's shoulder.

Before Chris can stop him, Ray springs back and almost takes the poor guy's head off.

Shaking his head, the ref picks himself off the floor and snatches the ball away from Ray who's still got it clenched in his sweaty palm, "Back to the line, now!"

Looking less than sorry, Ray and the rest of the team trudge back into the centre and await the whistle. 

The resulting scrum looks nothing like it should and Sam can already feel someone's knee in his back. He pushes up, tries to free himself and feels someone's hand slip across his arse. Spinning as far as possible, Sam sees Litton smirk and the hand still attached to his rear end gives him a good squeeze before retreating.

Sam shudders, sneers and flings his foot out, catching Jones in the cheek.

Jones drops like a sack of spuds and rolls away from the feet stomping into the grass.

Litton's little trick hasn't gone unnoticed and Sam can hear Gene panting and growling in his ear, "No, don't even..." but before he can stop him, Gene launches himself at Litton and starts kicking the shit out of him.

The ref's sat on the sidelines, head in his hands, mumbling something about crazed coppers and practically crying with Annie trying to calm him down.

Instead of separating them, the rest of the two teams all stand around and shout encouragement to their man.

"Kill 'im Guv, go on, stick the boot in"

"Lay 'im out boss, don't just sit there"

Sam hollers, throws himself at Gene's back and hauls him away before he breaks Litton's neck.

Panting, still clawing against Sam, Gene points his finger at Litton, "Don't touch what ya can't afford ya fuckin' fairy!"

Litton sits up, spits a mouthful of blood at Gene's feet and sneers, "You got room to talk you overweight shirt lifting poof"

Gene screams at Sam to let him go but Sam holds on for dear life and prays Gene'll wear himself out.

Before Chris can do anything, Ray takes up where Gene left off and lands a punch to the side of Litton's head that makes him actually lift off the floor.

Litton's team all pile in and Sam eventually gives up trying to hold Gene back and joins his comrades in kicking ten bails of shit out of anyone he can get his hands on.

Surprisingly, Litton's still trying to make a grab for the ball and Gene stands, pulls his pistol from his sock and shoots it, causing everyone to quiet down for a few seconds before they continue with the 'game'.

Sam's green head guard's long since come off and he can feel blood trickling down the side of his face. Nice. This's gonna hurt tomorrow.

Chris shouts something to Ray and jumps over someone's back to get to Henderson who's about to put a toe in his partner's ribs. Taking a flying leap, Chris lands arse first on Henderson, flooring him.

"Thanks!"

"Don't mention it"

Sam and Gene link arms and plow into the two of Litton's men still standing, clothes lining them.

There's enough blood on the grass for people to be slipping in it when Sam hears Annie's voice bellowing over the noise of fourteen men all pummeling each other, "WILL YOU BUNCH OF ANIMALS STOP!"

Everyone freezes in varying states of 'arse kickery'. Sam's got someone in a head lock, Gene's got his foot on Litton's throat and Chris and Ray are sitting on someone that she can't even see properly. The rest of the two squads are all covered in cuts and scrapes with shirts hanging loose, shorts ripped and muddy and she shakes her head and grinds her teeth.

"Seriously, how old are you? It's just a bloody game"

Fourteen voices all holler, almost raising her fringe from her forehead, " **It's not just a game!** "

  



	2. Second's Out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to recuperate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Foul Play...Smut with a tiny bit of plot, not much though. As promised...shower!sex =P

Gene watches Ray squirming and squealing beneath Chris's clumsy fingers and feels an out pouring of sympathy towards his usually stoic Sergeant. He himself isn't loving Sam's attentions but they're necessary if he doesn't want blood caked on his coat.

Sat sideways on the bench, legs propped up in front of him, Gene flinches as Sam daubs antiseptic onto one of his many cuts then waits for the stinging to pass. Sam's infinitely gentler than his dopey DC but he's still not completely off the hook as far as pain goes.

Sam seems to be enjoying himself, little sod. Everytime Gene grits his teeth and bows his head, Sam chuckles and adds yet another layer of rubbing alcohol to his already abused flesh.

It's his own fault, even he can admit that, but it'd been a hell of a game.

If this is what they feel and look like, Gene can only imagine the agony that Litton and his team are suffering and that fills him with a warm rosy glow, a lot like whiskey but better because he's sober enough to appreciate it.

Chris and Sam aren't exactly unaffected by their little jaunt into the world of sport.

Sam's got the mother of all black eyes and a split lip that looks like an extra mouth but Gene's happy enough knowing the guys that gave him the injuries'll be nursing sore muscles and broken noses long after Sam's healed.

Chris's managed to slice his hands open, god knows how. Every time he slathers Ray's wounds, he himself twitches and grits his teeth. Poor bugger. Gene's sure Ray's just as pleased with himself as he is, even if he is squawking like a parrot and flailing around on the bench opposite.

Top marks to the man, even after Litton'd walked all up and down his arse, he still managed to drag himself off the floor and smack him squarely in the jaw, knocking him off his pretty little feet. Gene's even contemplating giving Ray a raise, good work definitely deserves praise.

In between threatening Chris with bodily harm and withholding of sexual pleasures, Ray's sneaking little kisses off his partner and Gene can see it's almost enough to turn Sam's stomach but hell, anything they can do...

Leaning forward, Gene grips the back of Sam's neck and plants a huge great sloppy kiss on his lips.

After he's recovered and gotten over the blush attack, Sam quirks an eyebrow at Gene and smirks, "What was that for?"

Gene chuckles, goes back to his pre-snoggage position and smiles, "Dunno, jus' felt like a reward was in order, what with you almost takin' Litton's head off"

Sam shakes his head and goes back to bathing Gene's knees, "So, you're telling me the way to your heart's kicking the living crap out of anyone you don't like?"

Without looking up, Sam knows Gene's still smiling and nodding.

"Pretty much, yeah"

Sam waits a beat, rinses the cloth out and begins picking bits of grit out of Gene's thigh before answering, "That means you owe Ray a snog too"

Gene splutters, almost falls off the bench and Sam has to bite his lip to stop from giggling.

Across the room, Sam hears Chris laugh and Ray gag.

"If it's all the same to you, boss, I'd prefer my other 'alf didn't start slippin' the Guv the tongue, cheers"

Ray's yet to offer his opinion on the subject but Sam's pretty sure it'll end in 'Off'.

Helping Gene to his feet, Sam hauls him towards the showers. He's covered in gunk and grime and if he thinks he's setting foot in Sam's flat looking like that, he's got another thought coming, "Come on fearless leader, let's get you cleaned up"

Gene can't help the leer and Sam finds himself imagining being pinned up against the cubicle with Gene panting and pawing behind him. Remembering that they've got company goes a long way to cooling his ardor but he can still feel Gene's hands running the length of his body and he has to look at Ray and Chris to stop himself from practically throwing Gene in the shower.

Chris watches Sam hobble his way toward a cubicle with the Guv hanging limply from his side and thinks that a clean up wouldn't be such a bad idea. Standing, slipping an arm round Ray's waist, he helps him to his feet and gently shoves him towards the furthest door.

Well aware that the boss and the Guv are like a couple of randy teenagers, he purposely picks the cubicle farthest away from them. No way does he wanna be stood two feet from those two going at it.

Ray winces, leans heavily on Chris and allows himself to be propped up against the shower wall while Chris goes back to find them a couple of towels. Slinging them over the door, Chris fiddles with the dial until it's set to just the right temperature then steps fully in next to Ray and shuts the door.

Methodically removing all of Ray's muddy clothes, Chris tries to ignore the sounds coming from the other end of the locker room. Not that he'd admit it to Ray but the thought of Sam and Gene together does some funny things to his nervous system.

They're like fire and ice. Two complete opposites that seem to compliment each other despite the fact that they shouldn't be able to exist in the same universe without the sun imploding or something equally as apocalyptic occurring.

Throwing Ray's rugby gear out into the changing room, Chris allows himself to admire the muscles rippling beneath all the bought and paid for padding. Ray may be a few years older, might've been around the block, but his barely contained power and presence always manages to pull Chris off his feet.

Shedding his own clothes and chucking them out next to Ray's, Chris grabs the soap and begins to meticulously clean his partner. Hissing when the soap works it's way into his massacred palms, Chris drops the bar and groans as he bends to retrieve it.

Everything aches, there's not one inch of him that isn't throbbing and he wonders, not for the first time, why he's been unlucky enough to be saddled with a lover and a Guv'nor that seem to enjoy getting themselves pummelled every other day of the week.

It's no good, neither his brain nor his body can ignore the animalistic noises coming from Sam and Gene's cubicle and he finds himself turning crimson at the thought of Ray noticing him getting off on the idea of them together.

Braving Ray's wrath, Chris looks up and finds his partner grinning and leering and stroking one large hand the length of himself. Oh!

Grinning right back at him, Chris moves forward, drops to his knees and engulfs the tip of Ray's cock in slick heat.

Ray arches his back, hisses at the sensation of pain from his many cuts and bruises mixed with the feeling of Chris lapping at him and bunches his fists in Chris's hair.

Chris smirks around him and hums, sending spasms up and down Ray's spine.

Chris's erratic rhythm coupled with Sam and Gene's muffled groans pushes him closer and closer to the edge until he can't see or feel anything but Chris's talented tongue running rings round his body and mind.

Biting down on his wrist, Ray shudders once and cums, spilling himself down Chris's welcoming throat.

Waiting for Ray's cock to stop pulsing between his lips, Chris rises, smirks and wipes his chin.

At the opposite end of the room, Gene continues to pound into an ever willing Sam who's using the cubicle wall to stop himself slipping to the floor.

Gene can hear himself and he can hear Sam and he knows that Ray and Chris are probably cringing and cowering and trying desperately to block them out but he doesn't give a flying fuck. Not when Sam's just begun to twist his hips, almost pulling Gene over and turning his vision white.

Blindly slamming Sam up against the wall, he loops an arm round his waist and holds him up as he slips the tip of his cock almost completely out of him before sliding back slowly and deliberately.

Sam's struggling against him, pushing back as best he can but the walls are slippery with water and Sam's hands keep sliding away so he clamps both of them onto the arm keeping him upright and hangs on, rides out the waves of heat.

Gene can hear Sam's forehead knocking against wood but he physically can't pull himself back far enough for him to clear the wall. Almost losing his footing, Gene slips and smacks into the back of Sam, burying himself deeper still, causing the him to cry out.

As Sam's face smashes into the wall, every muscle in his body convulses and he feels himself thrum and snap. Spilling himself down the wall, he hears Gene grunt. Pulling back and sliding forward once more, Gene rests his forehead on Sam's shoulder and collapses into the quietest orgasm Sam's ever heard.

Limp, sated and aching, Sam and Gene pull apart. Sam stumbles, almost falls and Gene reaches out automatically before he can make contact with the tiles.

"This how you reward your deputies is it, add yet more bruises on top of the ones I already got trying to save your hide?"

Gene chuckles, finishes rinsing himself and Sam off and steps out of the shower. Sam follows, grabs the towels laying on the bench and wraps himself in fluffy white warmth.

Turning, Sam sees Ray and Chris emerging from their own cubicle and notes the distinctive blushes gracing their cheeks, "All clean are we lads?"

Chris lowers his head and Ray sneers. He hears Gene laughing behind him and wonders exactly how long it'll be before the Guv stops taking the piss this time.


End file.
